


What if it's Not Enough

by Pippinpaddleopsicopolis (Barnable)



Series: They're Counting On You [6]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Book 3: Fire (Avatar), Canon Compliant, Day Six: Biological Family | Cooking, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Missing Scene, POV Katara (Avatar), Post-Episode: s03e16 The Southern Raiders, Sibling Love, Sokka (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Sokka (Avatar)-centric, Sokka Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27293197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barnable/pseuds/Pippinpaddleopsicopolis
Summary: Following her life-changing field trip with Zuko, Katara has a talk with her brother about some of the things she said.
Relationships: Katara & Sokka (Avatar)
Series: They're Counting On You [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995538
Comments: 17
Kudos: 100
Collections: Sokka Week 2020





	What if it's Not Enough

“Has anyone seen Sokka?”

It was honestly terrible how long it took Katara to realize her brother wasn’t around. She hadn’t seen him since her and Zuko got back from their not so little field trip, and when he failed to show his face even once, just to say, ‘welcome back’, she became concerned that something happened. They were still in Fire Nation territory, after all; it wasn’t outlandish to think something could’ve happened.

“He was out on the deck earlier,” said Zuko, still tearing pictures off the wall. “Not sure if he’s still there, but it’ll give you a place to start.”

“Thanks.”

Katara immediately followed in the direction he’d gestured, not glancing back over her shoulder. She wanted to tell Sokka what happened, to let him know that everything turned out okay, but she stopped when she found him. Knowing him as well as she did, Katara fully expected to find her brother sat outside working on something. That wasn’t what he was doing. Instead, he was only staring down at the land beneath him, his head drooping and his legs dangling over the edge.

She didn’t say anything right away, only walking over to where Sokka was seated and setting herself down right beside him. Sokka didn’t so much as look up when she did, though he shifted in a way that let her know he’d acknowledged her presence. Though his body language already gave her a pretty good idea of the mood he was in, the look on his face said more than anything else. Something was wrong, but because she’d been away, Katara didn’t have the faintest idea what it could be.

“Hey.” She reached out to Sokka, but he turned away from her grasp. His eyes were wide and blank, in the same way they always were when something was wrong, and he didn’t want people to realize. She knew him too well for that. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing.” Sokka’s tone was flat and his face never changed but it was obvious that he was lying. That something happened while she wasn’t there, and it hurt him for reasons he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain. “I mean, it’s… no, it’s nothing. Never mind.”

“Sokka, come on. Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not stupid.” Apparently, her go-to response to him thinking his problems weren’t worth listening to wasn’t good enough. Normally, he’d sigh and start talking, but this time, all he did was shake his head. Katara resisted the urge to reach out to him again, knowing he would likely still pull away. “I won’t make you tell me if you don’t want to, but I’m here to talk if you need it, okay?”

That still didn’t get so much as a nod. Sokka only blinked as he stared down to the land beneath his feet, reaching one hand up to chew on his thumbnail in that same way she’d tried to stop so many times before. Katara almost wanted to turn back around, to try one last time to get him to speak, but ultimately decided it was better to give him time to think. To process whatever was bothering him. She stopped in the doorway to the beach house, when Sokka suddenly called her name.

“Do you really believe what you said before?” he asked quietly. Katara furrowed her brow in confusion, and Sokka sniffed, shifting his gaze to his knees. “About Mom. That I didn’t love her the way you did.”

And just like that, Katara’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She didn’t mean that. She was upset and angry and she directed the emotions in the wrong place, but Sokka took it to heart. Sokka thought it was true, that he didn’t love their mother the same way. Katara took a deep breath, closing the door to the house before walking over to sit beside her brother. He still didn’t look up when she did so, but his body language was a little more open than it was the first time she tried.

“I’m so sorry, Sokka.” She was able to give his shoulder a squeeze this time, but she wasn’t successful in winning over his gaze. “That’s not what I meant, I was just hurt and upset that you weren’t on my side. I know you loved Mom as much as I did, it’s just—”

“Maybe you _were_ right?” Somehow, Katara knew right off the bat that he wasn’t saying that in response to her own words. She gave him the chance to continue before asking any questions, imagining his raw thoughts would be more clear. “I’ve been thinking about it since you left and the more I do that, the more I realize that— that you really do love her more than me. Like you talk about her _all the time_ and I— I just don’t. I don’t have any memories or connections to bring up to even try and talk about.”

“Well, you don’t have to talk about any specific memories or anything like that. It’s okay to just talk about her for who she was. What she meant to you. To our family.”

“What if I can’t remember that either?”

Katara almost called him out for exaggerating but stopped when she saw the look on his face. Dejected, sad, his eyes bloodshot but not shedding any tears. She reached out for his arm, gently giving it another squeeze, and tugging his hand away from his mouth. Sokka sniffed again, understanding what she was asking him to do but still refusing to meet her gaze. She chose not to push him, waiting until he was ready to try and explain himself more clearly.

“I can’t remember what she looked like, Katara.” It wasn’t until he said the words that she remembered the conversation she’d overheard weeks ago. Sokka telling Toph that he couldn’t remember his mother, only her. He was telling the truth. “Sometimes, I can _almost_ remember her voice, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t picture her face. Whenever I try, I just see you or Dad, and I feel so awful about it because she was— she was my _mom,_ and I can’t even remember her face.”

“Sokka—”

“And that’s why I think you’re right, I guess. Because if I really loved her as much as you did, then I would remember her as clearly as you can, but I don’t. I almost remember her carrying me around and taking me to see the otter penguins, but… I think that’s it. I think— she died when I was ten. _Ten_. I had her for two-thirds of my life, and I can’t even remember what she looked like. How little did I care about her?”

His voice cracked on the last word, prompting Katara to reach out and pull him into an embrace without question. For a moment, she thought Sokka would fight back just because of how much his body tensed in response, but he slowly eased into her grasp and lifted his arms around her too. Neither of them said a word as they held each other, Sokka’s breaths shaking more by the second as she squeezed her arms around his back. She wasn’t used to seeing him in a state like that. Open. Vulnerable. Two things he never wanted to be.

“It’s okay.” When she finally pulled away, Katara caught the briefest glimpse of the tear on Sokka’s cheek before he pushed it aside and began to blink rapidly. He shook his head, turning back to look at his knees. She draped her arm back around his shoulders. “Everyone deals with stress and trauma differently. I remember everything so, so vividly but if you didn’t maybe… maybe that’s just your mind’s way of dealing with what happened.”

“But it’s not fair,” Sokka choked out, biting down on his lip between thoughts. “If I could just remember one thing about her, maybe I wouldn’t hate myself so much over this. Maybe I wouldn’t— all I have is you, Katara. I try to picture her but all I can see is you, and that’s the best frame of reference I have because you’re her daughter, right?”

“I don’t look like Mom, Sokka. You do.”

His face fell in an instant, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something, but a second tear the only thing he could produce. He sniffed and shoved the water off his face, glancing over to Katara out of the corner of his eye. It hurt seeing him like that. Trying his best to stay strong because he thought that was what she needed when all she really wanted in that moment was for him to be honest. To tell her _exactly_ how he was feeling so she could help him feel better.

“Really?” was the only word he managed to say. His voice was soft and sad, his eyes unable to hold Katara’s gaze for long. She nodded. “I guess I never realized that. I mean, I know I’d have some of her in me, but…”

“Believe me, if either one of us looks like Mom, it’s you.” Katara wasn’t just saying that. She remembered her mom like she just saw her the day before and Sokka was her spitting image. His eyes, his cheekbones, his freckles—there was no doubting who his mother was. “I’m not just saying that, you have _so much_ in common with her.”

“So, you’re saying I look like a woman?”

The fact that he was able to make a joke out of the situation was so relieving that Katara couldn’t help but laugh, despite how stupid of a joke it was. She couldn’t help but smile more when she saw Sokka’s lip curling upward slightly too and gave them both a minute to process that nice feeling before moving to continue the conversation as best she could.

“Listen, I know how hard it must be, not remembering anything,” said Katara gently, reaching out for Sokka’s hand. The motion was half meant to be reassuring and half meant to stop him chewing on his nail, but it was effective on both fronts. “If you ever need to talk about anything or you want me to try and help you piece some stuff together…”

Her voice trailed off, but Sokka picked up on what she meant. “I just wish I had _something_ , you know? More than just passing thoughts. Something concrete. Like, you have all these great memories of her doing your hair and stuff and I don’t have anything like that. Like I said, the most I really remember is her carrying me around when I was little.”

“Well, if you want something similar to that, you know she used to do both of our hair, right?”

“I guess. I don’t remember it, but I know it happened.”

“Okay.” Katara shifted in her seat, pulling both her hands back into her lap as she looked out to the landscape in front of them. It wasn’t ever easy talking about their mother, but if ever there was a time to push through, it was then. “One day, when we were both really little, you saw Mom braiding my hair. You decided you wanted braids too, like Dad had, and you _begged_ her to help you until she agreed to do it.”

Sokka made a face. “No way. My hair has never been long enough for that.”

“No, it hasn’t, but she tried to do it for you anyway. It was a _disaster_. They were the worse braids in the world because your hair was too short to hold them but you loved them and you showed them off to everyone and I remember you just kept saying, ‘ _Mom did them for me_ ’. And Mom was just laughing because they looked so terrible, but you said they were even better than mine.”

“Wow. I don’t remember that at _all_.”

“Probably because it was so traumatic.” Katara laughed, and it only got harder when she saw Sokka roll his eyes. “It wasn’t easy getting the braids out after that, but you were so happy. We all were.”

“We still can be.” It wasn’t fair. It was Sokka who was having an awful night, but he was the one turning around to reassure her. That was just his nature. Always the one to protect those he cared about rather than the other way around. “Once we win this thing, you, me, Dad, we can all go home. It won’t be perfect, but it’ll be okay. It has to be.”

Katara didn’t say anything. She just turned to pull her brother into one more hug, holding him close as his arms wrapped around her back. He was right. They didn’t have their mom anymore and their dad was far away, but things were going to be okay. They were _already_ okay, because they might not have had their parents, but they had each other. They would always have each other.

“So,” said Sokka, brushing another hand over his face as he shifted away, “you going to tell me what happened with Zuko?”

The look in his eyes said she didn’t have a choice.


End file.
